At the movies: Book Club

First of all, this is not a bad movie, so gather up everyone you know to go see it because we need to convince the Powers That Be that movies about older women can be fun, interesting, and above all, financially viable.

The story is about four women, played by Candice Bergen, Jane Fonda, Mary Steenburgen, and Diane Keaton, who have met monthly for decades for book club. (In real life they range in age from 65 to 80, but in the movie they graduated from college together and they seem to be in their late 60s, maybe early 70s.) Even better-- these are intelligent, savvy women. There's not a depressed alcoholic among them--not that there's anything wrong with movies about depressed alcholics, but it's just so unusual to see Hollywood movies about smart, successful older women. The premise is terrific, especially given the lack of roles for women "of a certain age" in Hollywood movies.

And the actresses--no surprise-- are having a ball. There are several moments of almost perfect chemistry between the four of them. They may be slotted into their individual roles--the divorced woman who hasn't had a date in 18 years, the married woman who hasn't had sex in 6 months, the widow who lived for her children, the never-married career woman who prefers sex with no commitments--but the roles are believable enough, and they're perfectly cast (although one wishes Diane Keaton could, after all this time, play someone besides Annie Hall).

But having said that, there are lot of odd things that just make you shake your head. So when the credits rolled and I saw that the director was male, and the writing team included the male director and a woman whose IMDB picture looks like she can't be more than 35, it wasn't a big surprise. There are several moments that just don't make sense. I mean, ask a successful enterpreneur at the height of her career what her favorite thing in the whole world is, and of course she's going to say arm tickles. Whaaaaaaat? Arm tickles? But yeah, that's what she says. And then, predictably enough, when she gets her romantic moment, he's continuously stroking her arm.

And not far in, you find out that what sets the plot in motion is that they are going to read Fifty Shades of Gray. Now I know that there are a lot of women who love those books. But there are also a lot of us-- a whole lot of us--who don’t.  (I suppose I should confess that I only read the first one and had no interest in reading the other two). So I was already irritated at the writers, because I'm pretty sure that if you got any set of four intelligent, successful women of any age together, there would be at least one of them who would be hooting with laughter while she read, entirely unable to take the book seriously.

But not these women. And I have to say there's something a little-- disdainful? contemptuous? smug? -- about a man and a young woman writing a script about women old enough to be their mothers whose lives are transformed by questionable erotic romance novels. It's almost insulting.

And then add in that all four of them get a happy ending that includes a man-- no happily single women or lesbians allowed, I guess-- and you've got a movie that just didn't quite make it to the level I really, sincerely wished it would. (to be fair, this movie is not about the men, it's about the friendship between the four women, but still.)(A little diversity wouldn't have hurt, either.)

The women look terrific, and they're all great actresses with enough skill for half a dozen movies of this caliber. The four of them almost manage to pull this movie above the level of the writing to make it a really terrific film. Unfortunately, they need better material.

7ToF: I was just cutting the grass under the window there

1. Well, I decided not to write an entire post on the Enneagram yet (mainly because I can't find my book). So I'll just say that I started out skeptical--it sounded kind of like astrology-- but have ended up being really impressed with what I've learned from my Enneagram number. You take the quiz (because of course there's a quiz), but then unlike all the other typing systems, you read through the descriptions and decide for yourself which one fits you best.

2. Enneagram types are numbered 1 to 9. I think I am a 5, the Observer type. Among other characteristics, Observers like to watch people and listen to them--which is so true of me. I am endlessly entertained by people watching (airports, malls, coffee shops), and I can eavesdrop by the hour (more on this topic when the book turns up).

3. So, since I like listening to people talk, especially people who are smart and funny, I love podcasts. I've listened to podcasts on and off for years, but I've only recently been serious about figuring out how to subscribe to my favorites so I can listen to them regularly. I use Overcast, a podcast app that has a few more options than the standard podcast app that came with my phone. I've only had it a couple of weeks but so far I like it.

4. So what podcasts am I hooked on? First of all, What Should I Read Next, which is Anne Bogel (Modern Mrs. Darcy) interviewing people about their reading habits and then recommending books she thinks they'll enjoy. That probably sounds a bit dry, but if you love to read, it ends up being really fun to listen to fellow readers sit and talk about books. Some episodes are better than others, of course, but this is the show that hooked me into being a regular podcast listener. Also, Anne's personality is charming. That's kind of a dicey word to use, but I can't think of a more accurate one to describe her podcast persona. Verdict: if you're a reader, don't miss.

5. Popcast. Popcast is really just co-hosts Jamie and Knox gossiping about pop culture. With every single episode, I find myself thinking at some point Why do I listen to this? I'm about twenty years older than their target audience, I don't watch reality TV (no judgment there, it's just not for me), and about half the time I have no idea who they're talking about. But then --and this also happens at least once in every single episode-- one of them says something that's so nuts that I laugh till I cry. And then they'll reference something that I do get-- like tomato sandwiches in Harriet the Spy-- and I think, OK, I'm in for at least one more episode, and then after a couple of months, I found myself looking forward to listening to new episodes the day they came out. They are having a ball and that enjoyment is infectious. Verdict: Really, really fun.

6. Happier with Gretchen Rubin. You all know how I've argued with Gretchen Rubin in my head about her book The Four Tendencies. So I wasn't sure I'd like her podcast. But it turns out that it's interesting and entertaining. She co-hosts with her sister Elizabeth, who sounds like she's about as opposite as can be from Gretchen, but they clearly feel a great deal of affection for each other, and it's fun to listen to them talk. Also, you pick up some great "life hacks" for making your personal world a better, more functional place. Verdict: Gretchen's down-to-earth, practical advice for improving your life is a goldmine of helpful ideas.

Also recommended: 10% Happier: The Podcast, The Big Boo Cast, By the Book, Fresh Air, This American Life.

7. In Other News: "Internet Things Worth Reading" Department: A NYTimes piece about Why You Should Stop Being So Hard on Yourself. Turns out we're practically programmed to be hard on ourselves. Maybe all those dumb things I do are just not that big a deal.

and that's it for me. Let me know if you have other don't-miss podcast recommendations. Have a great weekend.

More Types: meditation and maybe the most obvious type of all (edited)

(Edited 5/26/2018. I typed this out almost without editing on Monday night, but as I've thought about it over the past few days, I realized I was too negative toward the end. The only changes are to the last third.)

It occurred to me that maybe the most obvious type of all personality types is whether or not you find the idea of personality types useful/helpful. If you think the idea of personality types is right up there with astrology and magical thinking, then I can understand why you would find the topic so utterly uninteresting. It's like the punch line to a joke (a not very funny one): There are two types of people in the world, the people who like types and the people that don't.

But for me, figuring out my own personal framework has been unendingly helpful. That four tendencies thing I talked about a couple of months ago-- that has been great. Now when I see myself going into Obliger mode, I can notice it and sometimes I can choose to act differently if I need to. I love having the extra self-awareness it gives me.

Another one has occurred to me, and that is, for lack of a better way of stating it, what type of core self you have, or maybe your tendency to calmness or chaos. I have to back up to explain this one. For a long time, I had a really hard time with meditation because the teachers (even my favorite, Pema Chodron) would talk about finding the naturally spacious, calm place inside of you. The idea seemed to be that if you dig through all of your layers of fear and false expectations and whatever else, you'd get to this place of naturally-occurring peace and calm that was your True Self. (or not-Self, if you're Buddhist, but that's an entirely different discussion.)

The problem with that was that the further I dug, the more tangled things got. I could create a space of peace and calm in my head (for a few seconds anyway), but I never got the sense that it was the "real" me. Ever. Not even once. So for awhile I decided (because, you know, I know more than every single person who has ever meditated in the history of the world), that all those teachers were Wrong, and that really, the only way to get to this space of peace and calmness was to learn how to create it-- that our "real", "natural" selves were a maelstrom of chaotic thoughts and feelings.

But recently it has occurred to me that maybe-- *drum roll* --people are just different. Maybe there are some people who can dig through all their layers and they get to a place that feels like coming home to their true selves and it's all peaceful and calm in there. And maybe there are others of us who just keeping on coming up with more layers of muck the further we dig--in other words, at the core of true selves is a chaotic mess. Or, to put it more positively, a whirlwind of chaos and color.

If that's true, for those of us who are the second type, the purpose of meditation isn't to find an inner place of peace that already exists, but to create that peace, to learn how to observe the whirlwind without getting sucked into actually feeling chaotic.

What would we call this? People who are naturally calm vs people who are naturally chaotic? I don't know. But it would explain why some people, when they try meditation, just get more and more angry as they feel more and more like failures for not being able to find this mythical, supposedly natural, feeling of peace and calm, while other people take to it like the proverbial ducks to water.

Or maybe I just haven't dug through enough layers yet.

7ToF: irritations major and minor. Well, OK, I guess they're all minor in the grand scheme of things.

1. We are among the few dinosaurs left in the US who still have a landline. We've had the same phone number since 1992, and it is tied into everything. We had a great reminder of that last weekend: a friend from college that we haven't talked to in several years called and fortunately, we have the same old number we've always had.

2. But we've had a sudden dramatic increase in the number of automated calls we receive. Used to be that runup to elections were the worst, when we'd get a half a dozen calls a day. And I thought that was infuriating. But yesterday, the phone rang half a dozen times before 10 a.m. It's ridiculous. Sometimes we'll get twenty calls in a day. That phone call from our college friend was the first time in weeks that the phone rang and it was someone we actually wanted to talk to.

3. I thought Dean had accidentally clicked on an ad, or I had bought something from a new vendor who'd sold our number far and wide. So as annoyed as it makes me, I was a bit relieved to read this article that reports robocalls increased by 900 million during the month of April alone. It's not just us, it's happening nationwide. And if I cancel our landline (which I was on the verge of doing), we'll start using our cell numbers when we sign up for things, and then our cell phones will be inundated with unwanted calls. So I guess we're just stuck. Since our landline almost never receives phone calls we want, I may just turn off the ringer and check the answering machine once a day.

4. Remember my confession that I use face wipes to take off my makeup at night? Well, under the heading "Gross Things I Wish I Didn't Know," file this article, about enormous clumps of trash and cooking waste that are turning up in sewers in the UK. Know what they are mostly composed of? Wet wipes. They're wipes that have been flushed down the toilet, not "binned" (put in the trash)(which is what I do with my face wipes), but still. It was disturbing to read, and disturbing to realize my guilty habit really has no excuse.

5. So I'm working on a new plan. Plan A: compostable wipes. I found some at Target in the baby department. They are multi-use, not just for--ummmmmm--bum wiping, shall we say, so I'll let you know if they work. Plan B: buy one of those packs of a dozen washcloths and create my own wipes that get tossed in the laundry. I'll keep you posted. I'm not usually a DIY person, but if I can come up with an easy way to do this, I'll pass it along.

6. Why do I hate washing my face in the sink so much? I always have, this is not a new thing, but I've never really thought about why. It makes a mess. It's hard to get all the soap off, so I end up with dried soap around the edge of my face, which makes my skin itch. I hate having water drip down my forearms (sensory issues, remember? don't judge).

But now that I'm old and must wear makeup to avoid looking like one of the walking dead, I have to do something. If I skip the night-time makeup removal step, I break out. It happened on my trip-- I ran out of wipes the last night I was in California, so I figured it wouldn't matter if I just skipped a night. 24 hours later, I had one of those crater-like zits on the side of my nose. Haven't had one in years. Almost two weeks later, it's mostly gone but there's still a spot there, damn you slower healing middle aged skin.

7. You remember in the last post I said something about throwing out canceled checks from 2003? I thought I was hilariously exaggerating by going back fifteen years. But guess what I found yesterday? A whole drawer full of check duplicates going back to 2003. *facepalm*

We wouldn't have to eat Kraft dinners, but we would eat Kraft dinners.

 And then I found vet bills from 1992, and EOBs from surgery I had in 1996. So, decluttering continues. As it will, apparently, for some time to come. Have a great weekend.

P.S. In case you missed the Laurel vs. Yanny debate this week (this year's version of the blue dress vs. white dress), this article from the NYTimes explains it and has a tool so you can try it yourself. I very distinctly heard only Yanny at first, but then as soon as I moved the slider, I heard Laurel, and now I can't not hear it. Funny how the brain works.

TBT: Suffering and the daily grind

(This is an edited version of a post that first appeared in January, 2008 in my previous blog.)

I was talking to a similarly-aged friend yesterday about getting things done. There are things that we have to do to keep the wheels turning, so to speak-- pay the bills, buy the groceries, prepare the food, do the landry, clean the kitchen--the things that keep our lives going, the things we do over and over again just because they need to be done. And then there are things that we do that feel like real accomplishments, like helping someone in need, or finishing a creative endeavour, or launching a new project.

It reminded me of this old post about suffering, and the way buddhists understand it. Suffering is an important concept in Buddhism, but one that took me a long time to understand. Maybe I still don't understand it very well.

At first reading, it seems so entirely different than the Christian understanding of suffering. In my Evangelical childhood, I was taught to see suffering as a means to an end. The New Testament epistle of James says quite bluntly: "Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials (ie, when you suffer), knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance, and endurance produces perfect results, that you may be full and complete, lacking in nothing."

In Christianity, suffering is something that happens to you--an illness, unemployment, loss of a friend or loved one. You pass through problems and "tribulations" so that the trivial and unimportant is burned away, and you become a better Christian, a better person. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, more or less.

So when I first started studying Buddhism and ran across the idea that "All is suffering" (a summary of the First Noble Truth), and that the point of Buddhism is to escape suffering, it made no sense to me. Why would you want to escape suffering? Suffering is part of life. You can't run from your problems. Suffering is what helps you grow up. If you run from suffering, you miss out on life, you are a baby.
I struggled with this misunderstanding for a long time. I spent the whole time I was reading the Dalai Lama's book on happiness arguing with him.

Finally one day last spring I GOT it. I was drying my hair, and feeling irritated that it was already time to get a haircut again. You get a haircut; it's too short for a week; then it's just right for a couple of weeks; then it's getting too long; then it's already time for a hair cut again.
It was like the proverbial lightbulb went on. Oh! I get it! The Buddhist idea of suffering is more about the endless cycle, the daily grind, the unending work of getting through life. You get up, eat breakfast, go to work, come home, eat dinner, clean up, go to bed, then the next day you do it all over again. It's all about the cycle, the endless cycle.

It's a classic East/West difference. I was trained to think of suffering as a linear thing, something that happens along the way that is a means to an end, a process that gets you to a goal-- the goal of being a better Christian. Your life is going along just fine, then some big problem hits, and you have to get through it. Then (if you're lucky) things go back to normal. Getting through the time of suffering helps you grow.

The Buddhist idea is about endless reiterations of the same things, the kinds of things my WASP brain would have considered background, white noise. In Christianity, suffering is big stuff--persecution, illness, losing your job. In Buddhism, suffering is just the grind, the stuff you have to do over and over to get through the day.

Like laundry. Laundry never ends. There is always more laundry to do at our house. Or cooking. Someone is always hungry. Or batteries. You charge them up, and then before you know it they have to be charged again.

But once I got that figured out, it seems that the attitude that you have toward suffering in both traditions is pretty similar. You don't run from it, you don't avoid it, you dive in. The Buddhist idea of "escape" from suffering isn't about running from your problems, it's about reincarnating at a higher level of existence where there is no suffering. But where Christianity emphasizes endurance, getting through it, Buddhism emphasizes staying open, not shutting down, while you are in the midst of suffering.

Pema Chodron says you try to stay soft, instead of closing up like a clenched fist. You let yourself experience your suffering fully. You grow up. What I had interpreted in Buddhism as wanting to run away from suffering is actually not attaching importance to suffering, not letting yourself get caught up in the daily soap opera of our lives.

Disclaimer: As always, my understanding of Buddhism is anything but expert. More experienced insights welcome.
------------------------------
So, getting back to my conversation with my friend, when we accomplish something that has a different feeling than getting through the daily grind, does that help? I think a part of me believes that my self-worth lies in those accomplishments, in doing something that "makes a difference." But the problem with that is when I'm in a period of time when I'm not accomplishing anything except getting through the daily grind, what am I worth? I need something stronger than that, I think. Or maybe I need to jettison the idea that my self-worth lies in earning a place for myself, getting to a point where I feel like I "deserve" to be here.

Hmmmm. This is going off in an entirely different direction. Too much time in my head this week.

The Big Cleanout, part 2 (Declutter Like You Mean It)

I am never going to be a minimalist. I like having a stack of magazines on the coffee table, shelves crammed with books, mementos from trips, photographs of the kids. But there's no denying that we have too much stuff for the house we live in. Hence, the Big Cleanout.

There are lots of great resources for decluttering, so what follows is a list of my favorite tips and ideas. Unfortunately due to fifties-memory-syndrome I don't remember where some of them came from, but none of them are my own ideas.

1. Like most of us, I was raised to not waste things. Some of my stuff is worth passing along, but a lot of it just needs to be thrown out. A huge roadblock for me is not wanting to throw things away. Even stuff I don't want anymore is hard for me to jettison. (Want my lecture notes from grad school, anyone? cancelled checks from 2003?)

Here is the most helpful decluttering tip I've seen: if it's trash, it's trash whether it's in your house or at the dump. Either you're going to throw it out now, or you're going to have to do it later when you have less energy, or someone else is going to have to do it for you when you're no longer capable. Keeping something I don't want or need because I feel bad about throwing it out is not going to solve anything. I just have to get over myself on this one.

2. And by "throw it out," I mean, depending on what it is: recycle it, throw it in the kindling pile, take it to a charity shop, or put it in the trash. Once upon a time, I would have included "sell it on E-Bay" in that list, but now it sounds like too much work. Ditto having a yard sale.

AS GOD IS MY WITNESS, I WILL NEVER HAVE A YARD SALE AGAIN

 3. On the other hand, if you really want to keep something, keep it. (I made it through about 20 pages of Marie Kondo before I got too irritated at her preachy tone to continue, but if you're a fan, you can use her question: does it bring you joy? if yes, keep it.)

4. Surfaces are for working, cabinets and closets are for storage. So keep counters and desktops clear, and store things out of sight. I like this in theory, but it's not entirely possible in this house-- we don't have very much storage space. But it's a good principle to keep in mind while organizing things. (This one and the next two are from Gretchen Rubin's Happier podcast episode #160, where she is helping her sister organize and declutter her office.) 

5. Gretchen is a visual person, so she recommends starting with clearing out and decluttering things that can be seen first (like counters and desktops) and dealing with what is out of sight later (like cabinets and cupboards). This immediately explained to me why Dean and I have such a hard time working on decluttering/organizing together, because Dean is exactly like that. Whereas in my opinion, it doesn't make sense to do the "visual" part (organizing the things that can be seen) until you've organized what's inside the cabinets and cupboards so that you have room to put things away. This isn't bad advice, it's just not the way I do things, and it helped me understand the way someone else (Dean!) looks at it.

6. The third helpful thing I learned from Gretchen is how to make decisions about mementos and/or souvenirs. If an item represents something you want to remember-- a trip, an experience, a grandparent, a moment in a child's life-- does it actually capture that moment? Does it do its job as a container for memories? And is it something that you still want to remember? If so, keep it. If not, let it go.

7. And the corollary for me: do I really need eight things in my dining room buffet to remind me of my beloved grandmother? Would one or two be enough? It's really tempting to want to hold on to every little thing that reminds me of someone I love, but it's not necessary. I remember her pretty well even without things to remind me.

8. And another corollary: I've discovered that items that have sentimental value to me don't necessarily mean anything to my children. Hummel figurines remind me of my grandmother, but my daughter didn't really know my grandmother and she declined to take a Hummel figurine to her new apartment. As she should have if she didn't want it. There's no point in saving things to pass on to my children if they're not things my children want.

9. I wish I could remember who said this, but I don't: If you don't later regret at least one or two things you got rid of, you didn't go far enough. That is genius. Most things can be replaced.

10. Another one from a source I can't remember: Always have an empty shelf. At first, that was so foreign to me that I almost couldn't wrap my brain around it. But it gives you room for your library books, or to sweep away some clutter when unexpected company is coming, or if you need someplace to put the extra mega-box of your family's favorite cereal you got at Costco so you wouldn't have to go back so soon. Those are all things that only need a temporary place to land.

11. Don't put off taking stuff to the dump or second-hand shop longer than a couple of days, or it will start to drift out of the neatly organized piles you created. Don't wait till you're done. As soon as you've got a few things, run them by the Salvation Army on your way to the grocery store (or wherever). It only takes a minute, and it both gives you a feeling of accomplishment and also keeps it from creeping back into the house.

12. And finally: the whole thing is a work in progress. You can't live in our world and not acquire new stuff. Or at least, I can't. You receive gifts, you need new hiking boots, you want a copy of that new book by your favorite author. But I hope once I get the big, massive cleanout done, staying on top of it will be a simpler project. We'll see.

That's it for me! Have a great weekend.

<-- Part One of this post

The Big Cleanout, Part 1: Getting Started

When we moved into this house six years ago, we only lost about two hundred square feet in terms of actual square footage. But because it's arranged differently, it seemed like major downsizing. We lost a walk-in pantry, a study with two walls of built-ins, a linen closet, and two bathrooms (with cabinets). And the kitchen in this house is considerably smaller than the old one, and although we still have a laundry room, the old laundry room had a full wall of cabinets that the new one doesn't have.

In exchange, we got larger rooms with not much storage and an amazing view out the front windows, plus more room for the dog and no covenants against chicken ownership. So, overall: total win. But we have way more stuff than we have places to put it.

At the time we moved, I was still in grad school. We had planned the move for my six-week Christmas break. But you know how those things go. The house needed a bunch of work before we could move in, and it kept taking longer and longer. So we ended up moving the weekend before I had to start classes on Monday. Just in case you can't read between the lines, that was NOT A GOOD IDEA. The de-cluttering that should have happened when we moved didn't happen.

We shoved things in wherever we could find a spot. And now we've lived here six years, and I can tell you for sure that the magic de-cluttering elves have not visited. I've done some emergency clearing now and again, but we are stuffed in this house like cornbread and oysters in a turkey.

I'm not a hoarder, but if there is a personality scale for minimalist vs. hoarder, I'm definitely more on the hoarder end of the scale. I would never let it get so bad that you had to pick your way through piles of stuff to get through the living room. But on the other hand, the idea of living in a pristine house with blank walls, all clean surfaces, and everything put away out of sight is not appealing to me at all-- it sounds sterile and unwelcoming.

I like some magazines piled on the coffee table, books everywhere, treasured knick knacks on the mantle and family photos tucked into corners. But it makes me just as nuts to be faced with piles of crap I don't know what to do with as it does to think about the blank walls and empty shelves. The price to be paid for the tendency to hoard is that periodically I have to clear things out. And oh, how I hate it. (Although I know I'll be happy when I'm done.)

Now my job has ended, and it is time, as Rafiki said. It's such a huge task that it has been a bit difficult to know where to start. So yesterday I just picked a place (a shelf on my side of our closet) and plunged in. Then today I went through all my work clothes and jettisoned the stuff I know I'll never wear again. I already feel better, even though it's not much. At this rate, I'll still be decluttering in 2035.

Probably not very many of you are doing this with me, so I will try not to overdo the decluttering posts. But since it's what I'm thinking about, you're stuck with at least a few.

(This was originally the first half of a longer post, but that post got so long that I split it in two. Part 2 tomorrow.)

habit and routines

The idea of setting up habits that help you be successful is having a moment. It's everywhere. I first ran across it about a year ago in one of those list articles-- "5 things that all successful people do" or something like that. Number one on the list was having a morning routine. There are plenty of other examples--books (The Power of Habit, Better than Before, Mini Habits) and TED talks and a gazillion articles (google "habits of successful people").

Having routines is one of those things that probably falls out along personality types. Either you're someone that thrives on routine, or you're someone that doesn't. If I can be forgiven for using a dog to represent a personality type, our dog Sadie is someone who loves her routines.

Every single morning, she gets up at the crack of dawn with Dean, goes outside to do her business, and comes back in to have breakfast. She gets about a third of her food in the morning, and the other two-thirds at 4:00. The 4:00 feeding is usually my responsibility, and I can tell you that she has an absolutely uncanny internal clock. She's a time genius. She knows when it's four o'clock. 

Then after we eat dinner, she gets a treat. She is not willing to vary this routine in the slightest. She does not want to skip getting a treat one night. She does not want to wait and have all her food at four o'clock. She does not think it is deadly dull to do the same thing every single day. Life is very simple in her head, and it involves breakfast with Dean, dinner at 4:00, and a treat in the evening. End of story.

So we will put Sadie at the "thrives on routine" end of the scale. I don't have a good example of someone who absolutely cannot abide any routine, because I'm somewhere in the middle and all my family members are more toward Sadie than toward me.

If I have a strict daily routine (eg, when I was working) that happens every day, the same way, in the same order, for too many days in a row, I start to get antsy. For me, it doesn't take much to make it feel like I'm switching things up--I can just change the order on the weekend (read in bed for awhile, take a shower later in the morning, etc) and that's good enough. Someone with even less tolerance for routine might have to come up with something more drastic.

You listen to these Habit People talk about the power of setting up a routine and it sort of sounds like magic. So I've been thinking about this. How can I "harness the power of habit" (to use their words) without making myself feel like I'm being smothered by routine?

I am not a morning person, but I am also not a person that sleeps late. I'm almost always awake by 7:30, even if I don't set an alarm. It's not that I'm not awake, I'm just groggy headed. It's like my brain is stuffed with wool. The people who say you should meditate first thing in the morning because that's when your head is the clearest have never looked inside my head. I don't start thinking clearly until an hour or two after I wake up.

But the plus side of that is that if I can sneak a bunch of stuff in that first hour, I get things done before I'm even awake. Things like brushing my teeth, putting in my contacts, and making the bed I just do every morning without even thinking about them.

I've been experimenting with adding to that list. What else can I sneak in before I'm even awake? How about doing stretches at the end of my shower while I'm dripping off? (I've been doing that for several months now and it works pretty well, and also has made a pretty big difference in my flexibility.) What else can I sneak in?

But I haven't figured out how to fit in a regular meditation time. If I do it in that first hour, I just fall back asleep, but it's hard to set aside a regular time later in the day. Work in progress.

And also, are there routines I can do at night? It kind of makes sense, since I'm more of a night owl. If I have to be somewhere early, I can figure out what I'm going to wear the night before when I can think, rather than trying to do it in the morning when I'm barely conscious. When I was working, I packed up healthy snacks the night before so I wouldn't eat junk food when I got hungry. What about setting up an audiobook to listen to in the car so I don't have to mess with it in the morning? 

That's all for this topic right now, but if I come up with more ideas, I'll let you know. Let me know if you've come up with a good solution for fitting meditation into your routine. The decluttering has started but I didn't get anything written in time for tomorrow, so I pulled this one out of the draft folder.